


i can feel it take a hold

by laurenswriting



Series: pieces of us [4]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Dance, Ballet, Brother-Sister Relationships, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, ballet teacher eliott, both crushing on eliott lol, dance, smitten lucas taking his lil sis to ballet classes, some dance terminology but i described the movement!!!!, they're a cute lil duo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:13:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23533618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurenswriting/pseuds/laurenswriting
Summary: eliott, the reason lucas volunteers to pick amelia up from ballet class every single week instead of sending her home in the class carpool. eliott, the reason lucas spent three hours last weekend watching some dance documentary well into the wee hours of the morning. eliott, the reason lucas has mousse in his hair and his favorite shirt smoothing down his torso.or: lucas finds himself with a crush on his little sister's ballet teacher, eliott
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Series: pieces of us [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671781
Comments: 8
Kudos: 140





	i can feel it take a hold

**Author's Note:**

> hi folks!! 
> 
> this is a v self-indulgent dance au (i've danced since i was 4 lol) feat. ballet master eliott and lucas with a lil sister bc why the heck not!!!! might end up continuing this but we shall see :)
> 
> title from "golden" by harry styles 
> 
> hope you enjoy!!! ♥

Lucas pushes the door open, the musky scent of sweat masked beneath layers of deodorant and too-sweet perfumes hitting him the face as soon as he steps inside. There’s something else there too, something starchy that he can never place, even after three years of coming to the studio. 

He starts down the hallway to the back waiting room, squeezing past students unpacking their dance bags in their lockers and stepping around girls tying on pointe shoes. It’s a bit of an organized chaos back here in the depths of the dance studio, narrow hallways carrying dozens of students as they get ready for class and run between rehearsal rooms. 

Amelia’s classroom is towards the end of the corridor, down where the youngest students rehearse and right next to the back waiting room. The hall gets a little emptier, a little quieter, as Lucas gets closer, since Amelia is in the last elementary-level class of the day.

A window on one side of the hallway allows a peek into the rehearsal space, and Lucas pulls a deep breath in as he comes closer. He peers in carefully, eyes darting not to his sister, but to her ballet teacher, Eliott. 

Eliott, the reason Lucas volunteers to pick Amelia up from ballet class every single week instead of sending her home in the class carpool. Eliott, the reason Lucas spent three hours last weekend watching some dance documentary well into the wee hours of the morning. Eliott, the reason Lucas has mousse in his hair and his favorite shirt smoothing down his torso.

Today, a _bike-short-clad_ Eliott stands in the center of the room demonstrating the class’ last combination for the day, long arms spread in an L-shape as he lifts his leg into what that documentary told Lucas is an arabesque. The muscles clench as they work to complete the move, holding tight as he comes out of the position and moves to hit the final pose. The students applaud when he finishes and scramble to their places to give it a try. 

“Are we ready?” Eliott asks, and the smile that blooms as the girls give him a resounding cheer nearly blinds Lucas. Eliott signals to the piano accompanist at the side of the room and the class bursts into action. 

“Hold that relevé, Claire, that’s it! Good, Natalie!” he calls from inside, lilting voice slightly muffled by the window’s thick glass. Lucas allows himself a moment to stare, drink in the sight of Eliott moving through the space so fluidly, going over the movements for students who are struggling and giving gentle corrections to the others. 

Lucas honestly would have stood there watching until class ended if it wasn’t for a locker slamming down the hall, snapping him out of his Eliott-induced reverie. Feeling caught, he hurries over to the waiting room and leans against one of the walls, resolving to spend the next five minutes playing on his phone while he waits for class to finish. He gets pretty caught up in his game when suddenly —

“Lulu!” comes a scream from the side, his only warning before getting an armful of his little sister as she slams against his chest, forehead bumping right into the base of his sternum. _Oof._

“Good class, kiddo?” Lucas asks, pressing a kiss to the top of Amelia’s head. She nods furiously, pigtails bouncing through the air as she pulls away from their hug.

“It was so fun!” she exclaims with a jump. “And Eliott said my piqués are getting better!”

Lucas gives her a hum of appreciation, impressed with her progress, though he can't quite remember what exactly a piqué entails. But he knows she’s been struggling with them for a while now, if her usual post-class complaints are anything to go by. “Did he now?”

“Yeah, _and_ that my pirouettes were good, too!” It's a near-scream when she says it, and they are certainly on the receiving end of some dirty looks from the other moms, but the smile absolutely overtaking Amelia's face makes it more than worth it.

“ _Wow_ ,” Lucas gasps, drawing out the vowel to sing-song it for her. “I guess we’ve got a prima ballerina in the family, huh?”

She does a wobbly pirouette in the place of an answer, and Lucas is sure to give her a big round of applause in response, delighting in the clear joy in her eyes. 

“Go change your shoes and grab your bag and we’ll head home for dinner, okay?” he suggests, eyeing where Eliott is stood in the corner chatting with the piano accompanist. 

Amelia dashes off at the same time the accompanist does, leaving Eliott alone, looking over a sheet on his clip board. Now’s his chance. 

He steps forward slowly, hesitation catching in his chest as he crosses the room. “Hi,” Lucas tries once he gets close enough, shoving his hands in his pockets to mask the nervous energy. 

“Lucas, hey,” Eliott says, blinking up at him with a slight smile and letting his clipboard fall between his hips as he turns to face Lucas fully. “What’s up?”

For a moment, Lucas' mind goes completely blank, wiped of every word he's seen or heard in his lifetime as Eliott's silver-laced eyes fix on him. It's unfair, really, that Eliott can look this good, be this talented, have this effect on Lucas. It's unfair, and Lucas can't get enough.

He takes a breath to regain his bearings, letting his gaze rise to match Eliott's, and he feels himself click back into place at the quiet comfort he finds there.

“So, just between us,” he starts, leaning in conspiratorially, “Are Amelia’s pirouettes _really_ getting better? Because the one she just showed me…” Lucas winces, tilting his head to the side in fake appall as Eliott bursts into a heavenly giggle. 

“They are, trust me,” he confirms with a grin. “She’s really got potential.” 

“Well, good, because she’s our family’s only hope. I’m not that graceful, you see,” Lucas declares, gesturing towards himself with the tiniest of pouts. “Could never do ballet.”

“Oh, no?” Eliott retorts. He leans back, raking his eyes up and down Lucas frame, sending the boy’s heart thumping in his chest and blood burning in his veins. “You’ve got potential, too,” he decides. His gaze finishes its path, coming back to meet Lucas’ eyes which have now surely gone a little glassy. “Muscular. A powerhouse.” 

Lucas feels his mouth go dry, lips parting around a response he’s having quite a bit of difficulty locating, when he hears pounding footsteps behind him. 

“I’m ready!” Amelia announces, coming to stand before the two boys, one satisfied, one flustered. 

Lucas whips his head around to face his sister, taking a quick step towards her and away from Eliott. “Where, uh,” he stammers, trying to snap out of his daze. “Where’s your coat? And your water bottle?” 

“In my bag!” Amelia gives him a proud smile, swinging her dance bag up onto her shoulder and reaching for Lucas’ hand. 

“And did you remember to say thank you to Eliott?” Lucas prompts, nodding over to where the boy stands watching them intently, gaze burning holes in the side of Lucas’ head. 

She looks up at him with wide eyes, glancing over at Eliott for a quick second as she blurts out, “Thank you for class, Eliott!”

“You’re welcome, Amelia,” Eliott answers as he turns to her, his voice back to the cheery tone he uses with the kids. “Keep working on those piqués, yeah?” 

“Okay,” she mumbles, going red in the face. She looks to Lucas sharply, tugging on their joined hands. “Lulu, I’m hungry.” 

And now it’s Lucas’ turn to blush, rosy cheeks turning deep at the sparkle of delight in Eliott’s eye as he hears the nickname.

“Uh, that’s our cue to leave, I guess,” he stammers, flicking his gaze between an impatient Amelia and a smirking Eliott. “We’ll —”

“Bye, Eliott!” Amelia interrupts, squeezing Lucas’ hand once more. _What has gotten into her today?_ “See you next week!” 

“Bye, Amelia,” Eliott laughs, bright as the sun. He turns to Lucas then, thunderclap eyes going a little softer. “See you next week, Lucas?” 

_Shit._ Lucas feels his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before he can stop himself, the low timbre of Eliott’s voice rumbling in his ears. “Of course,” he answers, already being pulled away by his sister. “See you next week.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!!! i hope it brought a smile to your day :)
> 
> kudos and comments are always v welcome ♥ 
> 
> i'm on tumblr [here](https://tawmlinsun.tumblr.com) and the ficpost is [here](https://tawmlinsun.tumblr.com/post/613208786738577408/write-as-much-as-you-want-of-course)
> 
> sending y'all love ♥


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